Unfinished
by Sanguinary Tears
Summary: Another unannounced visit from House leaves Wilson with only a unpleasant discussion of Amber and a half-eaten sandwich, which still has to be consumed by someone.


My first _House, M.D. _fic. I just got this idea after watching an episode where House eats Wilson's sandwich. I am almost sure that he is used to House's methods of stealing his food and just eating whatever House happens to leave unconsumed if it is still edible without complaint. It that not sweet of him? I hope you enjoy and I apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors.

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Unfinished

"House, can't you ever knock like any other person? I might have been with a patient." Wilson sighed, placing down his pen and rubbing his temple. He could already feel a full-scale headache snaking itself around his head. Headaches were always a sure thing whenever House barrages into his office unannounced. Like now. And like the other times that are sure to come in the future, or possibly in the day within a span of minutes or hours. With House, one could never be sure when he would decide to just spontaneously turn up and grace one of his colleagues/victims with a surprise visit that usually proved more beneficial to himself rather than the party he was visiting.

"Oh, stop whining Wilson. That's all you ever seem to do nowadays. I mean, it's not like there's anything better for a doctor to do than grieve after his dead maniacal bitch girlfriend rather than concern himself with other people's affairs say like your best friend's problems." House replied sarcastically, slamming the door close behind him and throwing himself into one of the vacant seats in front of Wilson's cluttered desk.

"Amber wasn't maniacal or a bitch, House, despite all your twisted fantasies that might say over wise. Moreover, I would really appreciate it if you would stop with the name-calling. She's been dead for nearly a month now. That should be enough for you. And I'm sorry if my grieving over someone who I was dating and close with offends you. Oh, wait I'm not." There were times when Wilson could not take House's constant, harsh verbal abuse. Despite your best intentions to ignore everything that was not bitter and cruel that he said, he had that annoying tendency of shattering your patience.

"See, that's your problem, Wilson. You are letting the times that you had sex with her effect your line of judgment, which in turn is not letting you see the truth of what she really was. But I can't blame you for that. She had you quite skillfully twisted around her finger that your personal thoughts aren't yours anymore. But like I said. I don't blame you one bit." House returned crisply. He leaned forward, spotting an inviting looking lunch. Without much consideration and knowing very well that Wilson would do nothing to prevent him, he reached out and took the remaining half of the sandwich that Wilson had carelessly neglected to finish.

"Hey! House can't you get your own lunch without stealing mine from right in front of me?" Wilson cried, but slumped back into his armchair and ruefully watched as House took a bite out of _his _sandwich, the one he had made at home and brought for the sole purpose of enjoying it for his own lunch and not sharing it with a certain cynical doctor seated before him.

"That's another problem of yours, Wilson. You complain too much. At this point if you keep it up you're only to end up being a male-version of Cuddy." House allowed that thought to take form in his mind and a moment later he regretted ever thinking about it. He shuddered in disgust. "Now _that _is not a pleasant thought at all." He took another bite and spat it out.

"Yuck! Okay, really. Who the hell honestly likes pickles in their sandwiches or in anything else they eat? I thought you were supposed to be some gourmet cook that actually _has _a sense of taste when it comes to the food he's preparing." At that moment, House's pager sounded and demanded his attention. Sighing, he tossed Wilson's violated sandwich back onto its wrapping and stood.

"Well, it's been fun chatting with you, Wilson. But as you can see, my cute little incompetent ducklings need me right away to feed them all the answers." House snatched his cane and hobbled for the door, not giving Wilson a chance to say anything to him even if he did have something to say because of the whole sandwich or Amber thing, but he could think of nothing sensible to say. So he said nothing, which was the best course of action to take at times when it came to dealing with House. All that Wilson had after the door slammed shut was a desk full of papers and a half-munched sandwich.

"Yeah. It was fun talking to you too, House." Wilson muttered, running a hand through his hair. His eyes traveled to his lunch and decided it would be a waste to throw it away even after it had fallen prey to House's greedy mouth. Sighing, he picked up the sandwich, took a bite and resumed the duties of his paperwork, hoping to get as much done before House chose to pay himself another unannounced visit.


End file.
